


Vier Automaten

by JackBivouac



Series: Iron Gods [5]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Androids, Bestiality, Birthday Sex, Bondage, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Fake Marriage, Forced Rape, Frogs, Fucking Machines, Furry, Gang Rape, Gargoyles, Interspecies Sex, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Monsters, Multi, Orcs, Other, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Rape, Rats, Ritual Sex, Sexual Slavery, Unconscious Sex, Underwater Sex, Vines, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: Four little androids awaken with brand new souls in the belly of a crashed space-faring vessel. It's time for them to break out into the big, wide world of GolarionOneshots from Iron Gods as an explicit campaign.All my dice rolls here, but theoretically if there were players, this wouldn't be non-con  but prearranged fantasy scenarios based on how they wanted to handle losses to the enemy or successful seduction attempts





	1. Birth Automata

Sunrise. There was no way of seeing it from the section of starship crashed deep into Black Hill, but Myada, priestess of Hellion knew. The violet-haired android with shifting ‘tattoos’ of circuitry lighting here and there beneath the skin had a very exact internal clock. Sunrise meant it was time for prayers, for worship.

She and the seven ratfolk, four half-orcs, and singular, mute gargoyle gathered in their makeshift church in the navigation control room. A balcony ran around the edges of the domed chamber, curved walls covered in blinking lights and machinery. A few steps led down from the balcony. 

To the north sat a large machine with a pink glass tabletop. A holographic image of the entire science pod floated above it. To the south stood the pillar-like statue of Hellion’s claw. The Scrapwall cultists, used to making do with what they found, cobbled the fist of their god together from broken machinery.

Before Hellion, the cultists placed their scavenged offerings, the empty polymer husks of four androids found right here in navigation. They’d stripped the ceramic-hued bodies of their tattered uniforms and propped them up in pairs, sitting back-to-back.

They pulled the android’s arms back and around the other to keep them together, securing one’s forearms together under the other’s chest with twists of scrap metal. The necks of a pair were similarly lashed together by metal. Their legs were splayed free out in front of them.

“...now we consecrate these gifts to the Iron God, our great and powerful Lord of Rust.” None of the low-level cultists understood Myada’s sermon, which she delivered entirely in Androffan, but they all stood to attention when the cleric placed her hands over the heads of the naked androids. “Though your lives have long since departed, your ageless bodies may still serve. Rejoice!”

Myada raised her hands, letting loose the animal lusts of her congregation. The cultists descended on the pristine bodies with whoops and savage laughter.

The gargoyle on slate-gray wings arrived seconds ahead of the tide. He grabbed the first pair of doll-like bodies and hefted them off the floor. Crushing one to his chest and holding the other by the smooth, soft tits, he thrust his twin dicks into both of their anuses.

A snarling ratfolk on his heels climbed up the outer android's flopping legs, a second ratfolk following. The first sat on the android's shoulders, grinding her cunt into their mouth. The second latched their claws into the android's hips and rounded asscheeks and shoved their cock into their tight, unsuspecting pussy.

The five other ratfolk headed for the second pair, but they tossed aside by the much larger, stronger half-orcs. The half-orc's tipped the androids over onto their sides. Two wedged their cocks into their stuff mouths. Two grabbed the androids by the legs and rammed their cocks up their clenched anuses.

The soulless android shells were as helpless as tied up dolls to the cultists' wall-ripping, gut-churning thrusts and pistoning. But perhaps some iron god was watching after all, one wholly twisted and cruel. As the cultists raped the offerings to Hellion, their cocks nailing the flopping bodies in their wombs and g-spots, pussy, throats, and anuses squeezed hot and tight around the cultists' dicks.

The cultists gasped and moaned at the pleasured shock of it. They came as one, their unholy seed bursting into the subtly twitching shells. With their final, cum-pumping thrusts, white hot feeling exploded from the androids' deepest cavities out to the tips of their twitching fingers and toes and fluttering eyelids.

The first wave of cultists were already discarding the cum-leaking bodies to the remaining pack of stiffened ratfolk. In their hot, swift brutality, no one noticed the soundless, mental screams of the newly born souls into the slow-waking android shells. Bound, mute, and utterly helpless, the four androids could do nothing but suffer orgasm after orgasm while their new, virgin-raped souls figured out their way around their agony-racked body.

It was too much for the automata. In silent screams they succumbed to the twined pain and pleasure ripping through every synthetic fiber of their cock-and-cum-stuffed shells. Before they had even learned to cry out in protest or whimper in defeat, the explosions of electric feeling shredded their virgin consciousness to fleeting tatters, and they first learned of darkness' black release.


	2. Familiar Strange

With the unholy consecration and worship service complete, the cultists went back to their various guard or scrap-collecting stations. Cleric Myada passed through the black metal doors of the reactor core room to oversee the relay of power from the vessel back to Hellion in Scrapwall. Only the gargoyle remained in the navigation control room, for he needed no strength but his own to act as sentry of the black doors. 

Not once did anyone think to add the offering pile to Hellion to the gargoyle’s purview. But sure enough, the first of the newborn androids awakened. They had no name, but as they were one of four, they took to calling themself for the number one in Androffan, “Ein.”

As quietly and subtly as they could, Ein worked their arms free of the twisted metal. There was neither ache nor stiffness in their polymer joints. They immediately pulled their arms in front of them and unbent the metal binding them to the other android.

“Zwei” woke at the movement. She helped Ein untwist the metal around their necks. With that, they were free, the pink-haired Ein and the blue-haired Zwei. 

The green-haired Drei and black-haired Vier had awakened while the first two struggled free. The second two slipped their arms free of the twisted metal, but Drei couldn’t stifle their hiss of pain as a sharp edge caught the skin and cut deep.

The gargoyle’s bestial head snapped toward the sound. In shock at the sight of the presumed-lifeless husks on their feet, the sentinel did not immediately raise an alarm howl. Instead, he took to the air, flying over to investigate.

Vier unbent the metal around his neck and Drei’s as fast as he could. Ein and Zwei exchanged a silver-eyed glance. All four were unarmed and naked. They stood no chance against this winged, stone-carved beast.

The wind from the gargoyle’s wings blew everyone’s hair back as the sentinel hovered down in their midst. He cocked his head to one side in puzzlement. These were artificial beings of same make as Priestess Myada, right down to identical shifting tattoos.

As far as the gargoyle knew, his god Hellion had brought Myada to life. It followed that the Lord of Rust could bring more such androids to life. He stared at them and they at him. 

Nodding slow and pensive, he flew up once more and toward the black doors. Theological matters such as these required a theologian’s answer.

The four automata, however, had endured more than enough of this cult’s theology for a lifetime. As soon as the gargoyle’s back was turned, they took the mystery of their lives into their own hands and ran out the furthest and opposite doors. Which slid soundlessly open to a short hallway criss-crossed by buzzing, humming cords of electricity.

“Fuck,” said Ein.

Zwei, however, shook her head. “This is...a power distribution hub. I don’t know how I know, but...I can shut it down.”

“Then do it,” snapped Drei, looking back at the black doors. They’d let the gargoyle through. Any second now, he’d be back.

“Right.” Zwei bent over a panel of blinking machinery. Her fingers moved with the muscle memory of her shell.

Vier stood looking back, his hands curled to fists. No, the four stood no chance, but if they were gonna die, he was damn well gonna land at least one hit.

The black doors reopened for the accursed priestess and the gargoyle flying at her back. The power distribution hub and its net of raw electricity went black. As did every other room in the ship. The androids’ silver eyes, however, could see in darkness.

“Run!” screamed Zwei, sprinting down the hall.

The others sprinted after her, driven either by her command or the roar of the gargoyle hurtling on wings of death behind them. Half-way down the hall, the hub began to spark from the hundreds of nodes along its surfaces. For very good reason, Zwei threw herself the last few feet.

Ein, Drei, and Vier with suspicions at the heights of adrenaline, threw themselves after her. The hub hummed and buzzed back to life, bolts of electricity shooting burning holes through the gargoyle caught within.

“Gruhur!” cried the cleric.

The gargoyle shrieked in agony, his rigid-spasming body dropping to the ground. Then his teeth clamped shut as his broke into even more violent convulsions. Smoke rose from his body, frying inside and out.

The four androids rose to their feet. Ein winced at the prolonged death of the gargoyle, made worse by the priestess wailing on her knees at the other end of the hall. 

Zwei looked on as though from a much further distance. “I...reset the hub to high-power mode...and altered the administrative access. It should take hours to hack.”

“Huh, not bad,” said Drei, their eyes already sweeping this new, hemispherical room. 

Curved ramps led to hallways leading west while several doors stood along the east wall, the direction from which they just came. The west also held the cylindrical shaft of a powered-down...elevator. Drei wasn’t sure how they knew that, but they were beginning to have their suspicions.

“What’s the plan?” asked Vier, his eyes on the eastern doors. 

Three of which opened, no doubt to investigate the source of the blackout and wailing. Two half-orcs glared from behind door number one, three ratfolk from behind door number two, and a hulking, clanking robot with a single, red-glowing eye lumbered out from door number three.

“Intrusion detected,” intoned the gearsman. “Initiating purge protocol 11-321. Please stand down and submit, intruders. Purge protocol 11-321 demands compliance per core Divinity Directive.”

“Run, gonna say run,” said Ein.

“Maybe not,” said Zwei, walking slowly toward the robot. “I’m...the new administrator.”

Androids and cultists alike watched in stunned silence as the towering gearsman swivelled its head toward Zwei. It did not attack, merely repeat itself.

“Intrusion detected…”

“The only intruders here,” said Zwei, extending a finger out at the ratfolk and half-orcs, “are them.”

The gearsman’s head swivelled toward the cultists. It clanked forward, drawing a glowing security baton, and continued repeating its Androffan message.

The cultists cursed and swore in languages the four did not understand, shooting off crossbow bolts and hurling cobbled-together spears at the robot.

"Interesting," said Drei, recalculating their odds. "Perhaps we should help."

A vicious grin spread across Vier's face. He tore off from the group and slammed a kick into the back of one of the half-orcs stabbing at the gearsman.

The cultist grunted, going down on one knee. The gearsman's wildly swinging baton cracked them in the skull. Vier didn't wait to see them fall.

Ein looked at the others. They couldn't deny that the tables had clearly turned. "Anyone else want to get in there?"

Zwei gave a slow nod. "We shouldn't lose the advantage."

She put up her fists and waded in after Vier and her gearsman.

"She has a point," said Drei, at Ein, pointedly. They stalked into the gray after her.

Ein cursed under their breath. They couldn't be the only one of the group who opted out. They couldn't be the weakest link. They really should've just kept their big mouth shut.

With a cry less war and more frustrated groan, they charged in after them.


	3. Repair Services

Bolstered by their success against the cultists, the androids felt confident enough to split up to explore their surroundings. Three fourths of them did, anyway.

Ein skittishly wended their way down the metal halls with their buzz of flickering lights. Nothing to soothe the nerves like a constant, high-pitched electric drone.

The rooms along the corridor were little better for comfort, especially given the vessel-wide distribution of metal rubble and debris. Some rooms were entirely unexplorable, filled to the ceiling with collapsed parts, exposed wires, and sharp edges. But even for those that weren’t, Ein merely poked their head in, checked for cultists, and moved on.

The next room was longer than most with metal desks at either end. Between them were a pair of bedlike tables, evenly spaced, and flanked by curving panels of blinking, pulsing lights. Moving armatures of metal extended out over the beds, each outfitted with glowing panes of glass and softly glowing tools.

Like most of the rooms, it was devoid of cultists but reeked of blood, great crimson stains splashed across the panels, beds, and floor. Ein froze in the doorway. They took a few, stilted steps into the medical facility. It could also serve as a surgical lab and a research chamber for humanoid and xenobiology.

“How...do I know that?”

Clank, clank, clank, clank. Ein whipped around at the muted patter of four metal legs on the stained tile. The volume belied the hunched but towering size of the four-legged robot clanking out from the storeroom.

Once again, recognition killed Ein’s run-away instinct. This white-plated, blue-glowing robot was a medical drone. Once upon a time, it cleaned and prepared patients and instruments as the surgical aide and technician.

“I...know you. Fuck me, this mind-bend’s got me talking like Zwei. So why? How is this possible? Wait, do you know me?”

The drone’s single, glowing blue eye met theirs. It spoke in a neutral-toned metal voice. “Please remain calm, you are to undergo a medical procedure.”

Ein’s run-away instinct flared back to life. White metal blurred. They screamed as two hands seized their arms, pinning them to their sides. They thrashed and kicked in the drone’s grasp.

"Administrator! Administrator!"

“There is no reason to struggle, you are in safe hands.” The drone pushed the android, kicking and screaming, down onto a surgical bed. 

Thick metal bands rose up to encircle their temples, upper arms, lower arms, thighs, and calves. The bands shrunk tight, pinioning their head and limbs down against the bed. Their eyes blurred with tears of fear.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.”

Instead of a doctor, three thick metal arms descended from above. Each had a glowing, fist-sized orb for a hand.

"Initiating synthetic flesh general maintenance program."

The arms swivelled so that one hung over Ein's mouth. The other two poised between their legs, the orbs bleeding heat through the soft skin of their trembling thighs.

"No, no, no, no," they whimpered, unable to move their head even a hair's breadth to the side. They were utterly, helplessly restrained against the bed.

Without warning, the arms plunged orb-first into Ein's mouth, ass, and pussy. The andoid let out a choked shriek, their back, the only part of them with any freedom left, arched up in shock.

The arms and orbs pistoned up and down their throat, pussy, and anus, splitting their shaft walls apart with each pass. Ein's back beat up and down against the bed with each quickening, deepening pound, their arms and legs shuddering in the tight metal cuffs.

In seconds, the arms and orbs were pounding the back of their throat, the mouth of their barren womb, and...Ein screamed, choked, and gurgled on the burning robot phallus in their throat as the orb in their ass nailed their g-spot. 

Ass, pussy, and throat clenched as spasms racked their bound body. Their back arched higher, spine tighter. Their solid silver eyes rolled to the back of their skull.

But the maintenance continued, raping climax after climax into the metal-bound patient. Ein, surging with electric explosions, was stripped of every last conscious sense. Like the automaton they were, their body continued to jerk and writhe for the entirety of the procedure.


	4. Fucked Discoveries

Zwei, followed by the gearsman, was drawn to the room by the buzz and hum of machinery. A long track of moving leatherlike material rotated along a metal framework in the middle of the room...a conveyor belt. It was connected to a looming metal machine fitted with thrashing and twitching armatures and blinking lights. Once upon a time, they were used for manufacturing.

Now everything was broken, scrambled somehow. Panels on the wall flashed red with warnings and images of the metallic constructs. A second conveyor belt smeared with blood, most likely of unfortunate cultists, churned through an opening in the wall.

The entire laboratory had an air of entropy with its missing parts, flashing sparks, and discordant scrape of metal against metal. Zwei wanted to scream. This area once housed all the necessary machinery for designing, maintaining, and recharging robots. All that potential, lost.

Her head fallen, she walked past the wall of flashing monitors to the control panel. The flashing, buzzing message read: “WARNING: Robot Command Core Damaged.”

The android administrator went into the system and commanded a reboot. The gearsman behind her immediately powered down, as would every robot aboard this section of the larger vessel...Divinity. She knew the name but couldn’t picture anything outside the ship.

Zwei glanced at the gearsman. It would reactivate in twenty-four hours, but the damage to the lab was irreparable. She couldn’t repair any of the robots here. There was a fearful sharpness to her inexplicable pangs of failure.

Combined with her lack of memories from anything outside this section of ship, she had the sinking, despairing suspicion that she and her fellow androids had been manufactured aboard Divinity for a single purpose: to be the slave caretakers of it and its human crew.

#*#*#*#*

Drei followed the phantom trail of a memory to a room warm, wet, and thrumming with life. A thin mist clung to the ceiling, causing the lighted panels to diffuse and become muted. Condensation ran down the walls along a riot of green and brown vegetation. The moist, thick-stemmed plants and vines grew from the long, earth-filled troughs along the walls. From the center of the greenhouse, a tall column of plant matter grew like a singular trunk to spread its network of vines across the mist-shrouded ceiling.

Drei frowned before the central growth. An interruption to the bio-module’s day/night cycle had overstimulated the photosynthesis of all the flora in the room. As a result, the plants had overgrown their confines. They would soon escape out into the hall and could, theoretically, outgrow this entire vessel.

The android moved thoughtlessly, possessed by the habit of some past lifetime, to the greenhouse control panel. Their eyes narrowed to silver slits at the discovery of the problem. The most recent automated systems log showed a huge power surge from the reactor core, doubtlessly the work of those gods-damned cultists.

So enrapt was Drei in the rediscovery of the greenhouse logs that they never noticed the approach of the five green, three-foot humanoids from behind. Much like the android, they were naked, their only covering the tendrils of fungus dangling from their arms, legs, and chest.

All of a sudden, a viney noose constricted around Drei’s throat. Their fingers immediately tore at the thick, woody length. 

Whack! A heavy wooden spear collapsed their knees under them. Drei fell and was yanked by the noose onto their back. The vegepygmy attackers caught Drei’s forearms and calves in more natural nooses. They pulled their limbs to the four corners of the room and tied the vine around their neck taut to the central trunk.

Drei, tied spread-eagle upon the floor of the greenhouse, was utterly helpless, the stranglehold around their throat leaving them unable even to call out for aid. The five vegepygmies descended upon their new plaything without mercy.

Two ran for Drei’s head, shoving their fungal-pubed dicks into android’s choked mouth. Two jostled each other between Drei’s legs until they were back-to-back and clinging like monkeys to their thighs. Thus braced, they rammed their green cocks into the android’s anus.

Drei sputtered and jerked in their bonds, back and head banging against the floor in shaft-clenching protest. The vegepygmies only let out chittering laughs at their torment, pistoning their wall-splitting dicks harder and faster into the android’s throat and anus.

The fifth vegepygmy climbed onto Drei’s hips and plunged the android’s own cock up their asshole. The tiny green shaft sucked them into a flesh pocket tighter than the strangling noose around their neck.

Drei gurgled around the cocks in their throat, anus clenching tight as their hips thrust up of their own volition, impaling the little rapist on their dick. Synthetic seed burst from their head into the vegepygmy’s anus.

Sappy, resinous cum exploded from the two cocks in their mouth and anus. Drei’s climaxing body shuddered and spasmed as the vegepygmies pumped them full from both ends.

Unlike with the cultists, the android’s cum-leaking body was tightly secured. There was no way they could escape on their own. They could only wait in strangled silence for rescue or rape, whichever came first.


	5. The Wanderer's Manifesto

Vier walked between a long table heaped with stones and dire samples and the glowing panels and buttons of the spherical containment field at the back of the room. The humming device was filled with reddish dirt from “CX-335,” or the planet “Kasath.”

He knew from reading the geology lab logs that Kasath was an arid world with little water, violent weather patterns, and carbon-based inhabitants of a predominantly hexapodous nature, but had no memories of the planet itself. Therefore, he doubted it was the homeworld of himself and the other androids. Then again, each of the ghostly, fleeting memories that he did have were of this section of the starship.

He followed them now out from the lab and into a much smaller, narrower room. There were four holes spread across the walls, a meditation cell just large enough for a five-foot android to sit cross-legged. Metal drawers had been built into the surface around the cells.

Vier retrieved four sleeveless, jumpsuit uniforms. Each was made of a silver, sturdy and stain-proof fabric but trimmed in different colors: pink, blue, green, and black.

There were no weapons for the slave caretakers, of course, but there were four spellbooks with the same color-code as the uniforms. Pink belonged to medical’s white mage. Blue belonged to robotics’ arcane tinkerer. Green was the greenhouse’s verdant blood arcanist and black, geology’s elemental earth master. The four could hardly be efficient otherwise.

He returned to the rendez-vous point, the science deck’s security desk. The desk computers once allowed instant communication with the rest of the ship. Now, the damaged machinery merely flashed and blinked in random patterns.

“We must’ve suffered a catastrophic internal systems failure to have crashed like this,” said Zwei from one of the waiting area’s silver fabric couches.

“Can’t have been that bad.” Vier handed her the blue-spined spellbook and jumpsuit. “Our human masters got away.”

“So they did...they left us.”

To die, effectively. Whatever past life Vier had, it had been entirely wiped out save for the fragmented ghost images left in his shell.

“All the better. We’re no longer bound to the ship.”

Before she could reply, if she even had a reply, Ein staggered in the room. Despite their wobbling step, their skin, hair, eyes, and nails all appeared shinier than usual. Not in a robotic way, but with a lambent, organic glow.

“What happened to you?” asked Vier.

“Maintenance,” they huffed, flumping over the back of the couch to a seat beside Zwei. "Where's Drei?"

"They must've run into trouble...in botany," said Zwei, rising to her feet.

Vier tossed Ein their jumpsuit and spellbook and dashed back into the science deck. Zwei ran after him with Ein tailing behind as they hopped into the booted legs of their suit.

Sure enough, they found Drei tied spread-eagle and semi-conscious on the floor of the greenhouse. Four plant-based lifeforms stuffed two pistoning dicks in their mouth and up their asshole, a fifth impaling itself on Drei's forced-erect cock.

So enthusiastic were the vegepygmies in the brutal, hip and head banging rape of their captive that they didn't notice the intrusion until Vier stomped his boot through a lower vegepygmy's skull. It's head crushed with the snap and squelch of a thin rind melon.

Zwei crushed the head of the second. The vegepygmies warbled and shrieked, scrambling to pull out of Drei. Thick, resinous cum pumped from their green cocks in heavy droplets.

Ein reached the room by then, making one for each of them. Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!

Vier and Zwei loosed Drei from the binding vines while Ein shook the bowl of the last vegepygmy's skull off their boot with a sickened grimace.

#*#*#*#*

The four androids gathered back at the security desk. Ein and Zwei sat on the edge of one couch, Drei and Vier on the other. Four scraps of paper torn from Vier's spellbook were folded on the low, metal table between them.

It was time to leave the home and prison of their past lives. There was a whole wide world out there to explore. The only question was where to go first.

Ein drew the first folded paper. "North."

Zwei drew the next. "South."

Drei. "East."

Vier knew his direction but opened the paper anyway. He smoothed it out flat on the table beside the others'.

"We're really gonna do this?" asked Ein. "Go out, alone, with nothing but a spellbook and the suit on our backs?"

"We won't be alone," said Zwei.

"Yeah, we're arcanists," said Drei. "Just learn the right spell."

That, and the crash site was obviously inhabited with complex organic lifeforms. Hopefully they wouldn't all be hostile cultists.

"When should we four meet again?" asked Vier.

"Let's say a year," said Drei.

"Perhaps sooner, if we're on a small astral body," said Zwei.

"Sooner and vaguer, got it." Ein resolved to learn some long distance communication spell as soon as possible. These were, after all, their birthmates. "I guess this is goodbye?"

"Goodbye and safe travels," said Zwei.

Drei nodded and rose to their feet. They couldn't admit it to themself, but they'd miss the others, their rescuers and first friends. "How about, 'see ya later?'"

The others stood, nodding. They would see each other again. It was a promise.

"Ah, c'mere." Vier pulled his birthmates into a chest-crushing group bear hug.

When the four androids stood before the hissing, opening biolock, they did not look back. There was nothing there for them but the broken past. They looked at each other, smiling despite the threat of tears. And they looked forward, into the arid, sunset hills of their strange new world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The androids only think they're still arcanists. While that was true in their past lives, they haven't taken any levels in arcanist thus far and are actually Level 4 Experts in their past, respective fields.


	6. Having a Ball, Yet?

The doors of the crashed vessel opened into a sprawling network of caverns below Black Hill. Ein followed the northernmost tunnel, arid and dusty, for hours into the darkness. It let out into a vast cavern.

The distant squeaks of bats echoed broadly in the dark but open space. Clumps of stalagmites jutted from the ground. Grit and rock dust covered all, stirring up at the android’s every step. They were far too new to this strange world to think to look up.

A small creature fell from the cavern roof. It opened its underbelly like an octopus, its thin, hook-like tentacles connected by a fleshy web. The darkmantle landed like a hood over the android’s head, shutting tightly closed around their neck.

Ein let out a choked, muffled scream, both hands clawing at the rubbery flesh wrapped skin-tight around their face. They tripped and fell over the rocks at their feet.

A second darkmantle dropped, this one onto the android’s feet. Its rubbery flesh bagged their feet tight, lashing them together at the ankles. Kick as they did, Ein’s legs were as useless as a fishtail on the cavern floor.

From the ledge above, a powerfully sticky cord of silk thwapped against the android's writhing backside. They were yanked upward and spun into the silk cord, binding their arms to their sides from their wrists at the hip all the way up to their shoulders. Hooded, bound, and helplessly squirming, Ein had no hope of seeing their attacker as it seized them around the knees and waist in two massive pincers.

The cave fisher was a huge, crab-like monstrosity clinging the rough stone with six clawed feet. And it was in heat. Two massive, chitinous dicks stood erect between its legs.

The crab bent its prey into a ball, using more silk to lash Ein's thighs to their curled chest. The monster's pincers sliced a slit through their jumpsuit from asshole to pussy lips. It shoved its balled, hooded bitch down onto both cocks, shishkebabing the pathetic android to the womb and anal base.

The darkmantle's rubbery flesh and chokehold strangled Ein's shriek. They kicked, but from the knee only. Their bound body writhed, but their squirming struggles only sunk their ass and pussy deeper onto the cave fisher's impaling cocks.

Holding its balled up bitch in the vise-grip of its pincers, the cave fisher slammed its cocks into the soft, pulsing squeeze of their synthetic flesh. Its wedged in dicks ripped their walls apart even as they stuffed them mercilessly tight together.

Just like a subjugated bitch, Ein's pussy and anal shafts spasmed tight around their rapist's dicks, slick dropping wet onto the cavern floor. Their balled up body convulsed against itself, knees flailing madly as white hot feeling exploded through the helplessly quivering ball of their flesh. Ein couldn't suppress a shameful, strangled moan.

The cave fisher's cum exploded into its bitch's womb and anus. The crab slammed its cumdump's jerking, spasming body again and again onto its unloading cocks until the balled up android had taken every last drop. When its heat was sated, the monster tossed their bound, hooded body back to the cavern floor to lie in the puddle of cum leaking from their swollen, raped holes.


	7. Underwater Knockout

Zwei followed the southern tunnels into a narrowing passage of rock. Stalactites and stalagmites choked the low-ceilinged cavern, making it difficult to squeeze between them. Matching stalactites closed in from the five-foot-high ceiling, giving the impression of a maw of needle-like teeth bearing down on one another.

She could either march hours back to the last bend in the tunnel or attempt to squeeze through the gap. Heavy in weight but slight in form, the android chose to chance the stony maw. 

Grasping a stalagmite for balance, she slid one leg between the teeth. Her leg was too short to reach the ground, so she braced her foot against the outermost stalagmite. She turned her back toward the gap and slipped her other leg through.

She lifted one hand to reach for a new hold. Her feet slipped down the slick outer side of the stone. Zwei fell backwards with a help, splashing back-first into freezing water.

Two fist-sized eyes opened beneath the surface of the pool. Bright beams of yellow light seared Zwei's eyeballs, blinding her to form of the amphibian beast.

The blindheim was a four-foot, two hundred pound frog-like being with mottled yellow skin growing darker across its back. Its long, gluey tongue lashed out at Zwei, slamming into her chest. The blinded android was reeled in with a spin, the frog's thick tongue coiling tight and sticky around her body.

Her arms, raised in defense, were pinned against her chest in a useless, straightjacketed X. The blindheim shoved her kicking, struggling body against the stone floor of the shallow pond. She bubbled out a grunt, but continued writhing in the frog's constricting tongue.

The blindheim, a remarkably intelligent pet of the skulking dwellers of these caverns, quickly realized that the android had no need of air. It would need a more brutal method of sapping her strength if it wanted to bring her to its masters.

Holding her shoulders trapped to the pond floor, its clawed feet caught her kicking legs and forced her thighs apart. The frog reached a clawed hand down and ripped through the crotch of her jumpsuit. It returned its hand to keep her tongue-bound torso pinned down to the rock and shoved its cock through the tear and into her asshole.

Zwei screamed in bubbles, the blindheim's bulbous cock ripping her anal walls apart. Her legs flailed on either side of its heavy, mottled body, feet splashing through the water's surface to no avail.

The frog continued to thrust, each gut-churning ram slamming her head and back into the stone floor. As it began to jackhammer into her rawed anus, stars burst in her blinded eyes.

Her traitorous pussy squeezed as tight as the tongue binding her body around her unseen rapist's dick. The blindheim's cock slammed her clenched gut again and again, each brutal thrust beating electric explosions into her constricting anus.

Zwei's back arched, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. Her hips bucked senselessly, mindless against her blindheim master's, begging for more.

The frog's cock pistoned harder, deeper, shaking the android's convulsing body to the very bone against the pond floor. Seed exploded into her spasming anus, ripping away the final tatters of her consciousness. As the beast pumped its broken bitch full of its cum, she floated limp but twitching in the dark waters.


	8. Raiding the Raiders

Drei followed the Black Hill caverns east. The tunnels came to short stop out onto a ledge of arid cliffs. Down below harsh hill country barely capable of supporting life baked beneath a savage, high noon sun.

Though the newly emerged android had no knowledge of it, these were the Sellen Hills. The barren scrubland was home to many of Numeria’s barbarian tribes. These nomadic Kellids roamed the harsh lands at will, oftentimes across the border into the River Kingdoms.

With nowhere to go but down, they began the long descending climb though without fear of sweat. Their lack of such a bodily response came in handy as the sun ratcheted up the temperature at the same time as it drew out the shadows of the afternoon.

A high, whinnying cry froze Drei against the rock. They looked down over their shoulder. 

A dizzying sixty feet below, a group of four barbarian raiders had made camp at the base of the cliff, six horses tied off under the skeletal branches of dead trees. They were Kellids, tall and muscular with sun-browned skin and dark hair braided and shaved in various fashions. All four raiders crowded around a fifth Kellid, his naked, muscled body bound with coarse, horsehair ropes.

One raider had the subjugated man’s head in his hands, fingers knotted in his shoulder-length black hair. The raider laughed between grunts as they forced their cock to the back of the man’s throat. Each thrust knocked a dribble of saliva from the corners of the man’s mouth.

A second raider stood behind the man, hands gripping the taut flesh of his hips. His dick pistoned into the captive’s asshole, pounding his anus to a raw, squeezing pulp. The cumdump’s arms, bent and bound wrist to elbow behind his back, bounced helplessly against his back as the raider’s cock slammed his g-spot.

The two remaining raiders pumped their dicks in their hand. They broke into jeering laughter as the kneeling cumdump’s thighs began to tremble. Cum spurted from the man’s cock onto the underside of his own belly, drawing further laughs and jeers.

The first and second raiders were too deep into grunting, rutting focus to notice. They came with a vicious slam into their cum toilet’s throat and anus. Seed gushed from their cocks into his shafts, the raiders leaning their dicks into his raped flesh until he sucked up every drop.

They pulled out, breathing hard and sweating under the blazing sun. The third and fourth took their turn with the quivering captive dripping seed from his swollen mouth and asshole.

Drei waited behind the boulders nearest the dead trees until the last two were similarly tuckered out from their hard morning. The android crept into the long, afternoon shadows and untied the horses. With a sharp slap, the horses took off at full speed, rearing and whinnying.

There was a shout from the raiders. Leaving their bound, broken cumdump heaped on the ground in a puddle of sticky seed, they ran after their galloping steeds.


	9. Orc and Half

The western tunnels let out onto rugged hills peppered with sagebrush and other scrubby bushes. As Vier made his descent under a blistering high noon sun, distant, garbled sounds echoed up to him from the dusty foothills. He slowed into a stealthy approach, keeping to the meager shadows as much as possible.

Three hulking brutes with grayish-green skin and tusk-like teeth clustered about a smaller, slighter young woman with bright red hair and green skin. The orcs had bound the naked half-orc girl in a crab-tie, her arms bound to the outside of her legs elbows-to-knees and wrists-to-ankles.

They held her upside down between two of their number to stuff her pussy and anus with their massive, tattooed cocks. The third laid on the floor of their makeshift campsite, holding the girl's choking head down over the base of her giant dick. Tremors spasmed down the girl's lashed limbs, her body helplessly bouncing and writhing between the orcs jackhammering the walls of her deepest cavities.

The orc dick in her mouth slammed the back of her throat, forcing it tight. As she spurted and gagged, her pussy and anal shafts instinctively clamped down on the orcs' raping dicks. The girl's trussed body flailed and convulsed like a hooked fish, eyes rolling to the back of her skull.

The three orcs of the Twisted Nail tribe howled. Cum exploded from their giant, clenched cocks into their captive's throat, pussy, and anus.

Vier, livid, sprang down from behind the final boulder and slammed his feet down onto the back of the nearest orc. The three hulks immediately tossed their quivering captive to the dust and reached for their bloodstained falchions.

Twisting his legs, Vier snapped the neck of the orc he was riding. As he leapt off, the female orc’s falchion slashed a deep gash through his leg.

The android countered with a brutal hammerfist to her temple. Bone crunched under his blow. The orc’s head caved into itself.

Vier didn’t wait to see her fall. He kicked aside the final orc’s clumsy sweep of a blade and spun his heel into their gut.

The orc bellowed in pain. They struck back with full force, cutting a red gash across Vier’s chest.

The android staggered back into the boulder. As the orc lunged for the killing blow, he rolled aside. The orc’s falchion jammed between the boulder and the foot of the cliff.

Vier wasn’t one to waste. He rammed a vicious uppercut into the orc’s throat. Their windpipe crushed against his fist. The orc crumpled with a bloody gurgle.

He took the falchion from their hand and made for the girl lying on her back in the dust. The orcs’ seed oozed from her rawed mouth, pussy, and asshole. He cut through her bonds but otherwise refrained from touching her.

The young half-orc mumbled in a language he did not understand and climbed unsteadily to her hands and knees. She looked up at him, large brown eyes framed by her long, tangled locks. She offered a small smile and pointed at herself.

“Brinke.”

The android, attempting to mirror her expression, pointed at himself. “Vier.”


	10. With Rescuers Like These, Who Needs Enemies?

A caged wagon pulled by a four-strong team of giant geckos rattled through the northern tunnels. Three mongrelfolk slavers sat on the driver's bench. The first was the snake-skinned woman Dyr with a long, flexible neck and a face so warped by tumors that she was incapable of speech. The second was Lan, a tall, thin man with the horns of a goat and a body vertically bisected by elven and lizardfolk features. The third was Cel, likewise built like an elf but covered in golden-brown fur with the ears and face of a wild dog.

The three were on their way back to the subterranean mongrelfolk city of Neathholm to sell off the last of their slaves and spend their earnings on some long-awaited R&R. Only four slaves remained in their caged wagon, two Iobarian humans with fair skin and features, a green-skinned, dark-haired half-orc, and a pale, sightless elf with silvery blond hair. The four had been bound and restrained in ways to amuse their captors on the long road back.

The half-orc's arms were shackled to the bars over her head. Her bent legs were spread and chained to either side at the thighs. A human transwoman had been bound under her to keep her cock and a shared dildo vibrating in their asses. She was lying on her back with her wrists restrained by the wooden stock around her neck. Her ankles sat on the half-orc's shoulders where they were bound in shackles to the half-orc's iron collar.

The blind elf laid lengthwise down the line of the cage. His wrists were shackled to the bars at the back and his ankles, shackled together to the bars behind the driver’s seat.

The human laid atop them, their head forced down on the elf’s dick by the chains from their collar wrapped around the elf’s trembling thighs. Their legs were bound in a frog-tie on either side of the elf’s head, so that each time the human’s strength failed, their own dick dropped into his mouth. They couldn’t rely on their arms to help, their wrists cuffed together behind their back.

Dyr pointed a finger. Lan pulled the wagon to a stop. Cel hopped down off the driver’s bench to investigate the find. They crouched by the webbed up body, sniffing and yanking the hood off their head.

The unconscious, pink-haired creature looked like a human but didn’t smell like one at all. Their scent was muted somehow, nearly nonexistent. That, and their features were perhaps too perfect as though crafted by an artisan rather than born of a womb.

Cel shrugged. Not that anyone at the slave market would give a damn about where they’d picked up another slave.

They yanked the hood off the humanoid's feet and sliced through their webbing with a claw. The clothes could stay for now, especially with that inviting slit between their legs. 

Cel licked their lips and snapped a collar around their neck. They cuffed the humanoid's wrists behind their back and their ankles together. Bending their legs, the houndish mongrel ran a chain from their neck to their ankle-cuffs, causing their bent legs to spread in an inescapable hogtie.

The dog mongrel climbed between the humanoid's thighs, pinning their body to the cavern floor by the shoulders. With a low, feral growl, Cel pushed their stiffened cock up their raw,swollen anus, their knot bumping against their asshole.

Though their newly enslaved bitch remained unconscious, a soft gasp escaped their lips. Each thrust sent twitching jerks through the taut, bound bow of their body and a panted gasp from their half-opened mouth.

Cel growled, thrusting harder, faster, deeper. Their wall-ripping thrusts forced their knot through the slave's twitching asshole.

Ein woke shrieking, their body slammed from the ass with toe-curling, spine-clenching electric heat. Iron cuffs and collar gripped their flesh tight, constricting their instinctive flailing to pathetic squirming against an unyielding stone floor and the solid, furry mass that had them knotted by the ass. Drool sputtered from their lips, their head lolling helplessly over their collar.

Cel came with a bowl, cum bursting from their knotted dick up their bitch's anal shaft. They dug their claws into their shoulders, crushing the slave against the cavern floor as they pumped their spasming anus full of seed.

Like a true dog, however, one climax wasn't enough to date Cel's knot. The mongrel stayed in their bound, convulsing bitch for the better part of the hour, pounding them full of forced pleasure and cum.

Their fellow slavers didn't mind. Dyr and Lan had plenty of worthless flesh in the caged wagon to amuse themselves with.


	11. Greetings from the Skulks

The blindheim dragged its captive to a vast, inken black chamber rising thirty feet overhead. A five-foot-wide ledge ran along one cavern wall. On it sat four ramshackle huts constructed from strips of scavenged metal, hides, and fibrous plant matter.

There were only two cave denizens in the huts at present, but they immediately walked forth at their pet guardian’s approach. Bat and Yads were both smooth-skinned, hairless humanoids. Their penetrating eyes and skin shifted to mimic the cavern stone in the light of the blindheim’s eyes.

Bat let out a low whistle. “Nice haul,” he said in smirking Undercommon.

“Have a treat, buddy, you deserve it,” said Yads, tossing their pet a roasted mushroom patty. They ran back into their hut to grab coils of coarse, fibrous rope.

The blindheim snapped up its treat and scampered back to its pond, leaving its catch sprawled on the cavern floor. Bat immediately stripped the fallen humanoid of her jumpsuit, his sneering grin growing at the sight of her lusciously crafted curves.

Yads returned with the rope and a thin metal bar salvaged from what they had no idea was the wreck of a space-faring vessel. The two skulks bound their captive’s wrists over her head together at the center of the bar. They doubled her over to bind her ankles over her head as well, one at either end of the rod, leaving her crotch perfectly vulnerable and exposed.

“Delicious,” said Bat, poking a finger into her tight, wet pussy. 

She gripped him like a virgin, fully stiffening his cock. He chuckled and pushed his dick through her pussy lips instead, watching the unconscious cumslut swallow him to the hilt. Her tight, lewd cunt sucked and squeezed his cock at the first thrust.

“Fuck me, Yads, this blacked out whore’s begging for it.”

“How about we stick to fucking her?” Yads stuck a finger in her mouth to open it then slid in their cock. They straddled her unnaturally lovely face, humping her head into the cavern floor. As their dick battered the back of her throat, Bat’s cock split her pussy walls apart.

Zwei’s body writhed awake, choking out a moaning scream onto Yad’s pistoning dick. Her eyes bulged in her skull as the two skulks pounded her clenching throat and pussy into the cavern floor. Her bound hands grasped uselessly, her bare feet twitching and jerking over her head as the walls of her shafts wrapped tighter and tighter around her rapist’s dicks.

A low groan was forced out through the android’s nose, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. Her clenched pussy exploded with spears of lightning hot pleasure, sending her helpless body wracking in violent convulsions under her rapists. Her head and spasming back banged against the stone floor.

Bat gripped her perfect tits, Yads bracing against the bar that restrained her wrists and ankles. Seed exploded from their cocks into the throat and barren, ravenous womb. They grunted and nailed their new cum toilet with every last drop.


	12. Getting Somewhere

Jhoken, Kellid priest of Erastil, and his silent, green-haired rescuer, couldn’t risk stopping until they’d crossed over from Numeria’s plains to the much more concealing woodlands of the lawless Stolen Lands. That wasn’t quite right. The small, uncannily beautiful twink had spoken a single word, “Drei,” presumably their name.

As their shadows lengthened behind them, the tips of distant treelines peeked over the grassy horizon. The trees stretched tall before them and at their gnarled feet flowed the lazy bend of a muddy river.

Several sandy islets created a ford across the bend and a natural choke point. Thick piles of rubble, branches, leaves, and...dead bodies drifted to a halt upon their sands.

“It is what it is,” Jhoken shrugged to his companion, speaking in his native tongue of Hallit since the twink hadn’t responded to Common.

Drei didn’t respond to Hallit either, taking it in with an impassive blink of their eerie silver eyes. If Jhoken had to guess, he might’ve wagered they were fey-touched. Those woods of the Greenbelt were supposedly rife with all manner of fey adding their chaos to the bandit-ridden lawlessness of the Stolen Lands.

Perfect place for a fellow like himself to disappear, start over, make amends to the Stag God, etc. He gave Drei half a grin, to which his rescuer didn’t respond, shook his head, and clambered down the riverbank to the first of the islets.

Half-way across the river, Drei’s knuckles nudged the back of his shoulder. Jhoken froze, the little guy stepping quietly, protectively forward. They pointed at the next pile of debris.

The priest squinted. Two yellow, reptilian eyes narrowed back.

“Ah, fuck.”  
A sinuous, green-scaled reptile six feet long leapt from its hidey-hole onto the sand. Rows of sharp teeth flashed from its dragon-like maw, its arms ending in vicious claws. A cloud of greenish vapor wafted from its nostrils.

“Actually, we’re kinda lucky. Tatzlwyrms usually mate for life, hunt in pairs, etc…”

A second pair of forearms and hindlegs landed with a spray of sand behind the two. Deadeye dammit. Where was the power to speak with animals when he needed it?

The tatzlwyrms pounced. Jhoken screamed as the reptile’s teeth pierced his defending arm. Noxious breath blasted into his eyes, nose, and mouth. His scream broke into a fit of coughing, tears and snot weeping out from irritation.

The tatzlwyrm chomped his arm down to the bone. Its claws ripped through the ex-cleric’s chest.

Through the blinding pain, Jhoken elbowed the reptile in the face. It was too little, too late. He was losing blood, fast. His body was chilling dead between the tatzlwyrm’s teeth.

Just when all hope was lost, he was tossed to the sand like a lump of meaty debris. The priest staggered onto his knees and forearms. He cracked an eye open, blinking through the veil of his own blood.

Drei, roaring, leaking a fluid blacker than blood, and glowing by the unnaturally shifting tattoos, leaped and lunged with a cold iron rapier they must’ve pulled from the debris. 

The tatzlwyrm pounced itself. The twink turned, quick as whip. They held shaking but sure as the reptile landed throat first on the long, slender blade.

Drei pulled out with a swift lunge back. The tatzlwyrm collapsed at their feet, leaking a much more normal shade of red.

They gave the dead beast a swift nod and walked back to the priest to offer a hand. Jhoken was not too proud to take it.

“Thanks, kid. You really saved our asses.”

Drei just blinked their silver eyes.

Jhoken jerked his chin at the debris. “Why don’t you rifle through and see if you find anything else as useful as that rapier? I’m gonna turn our predator friends here into something more mobile. And edible.”

Drei turned up some very decent scale mail along with filthy clothes and a heavy crossbow for Jhoken. A crossbow wasn’t near as good as his old longbow, but there weren’t enough coins across any of the three decomposing bodies here to buy a new one.

The real find was inside a watertight scroll tube. There were two perfectly preserved documents. The first was a partially completed map of this corner of the Greenbelt. The second was a charter:

“Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Stolen Lands. 

“Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. 

“So witnessed on this day...yada, yada, yada. Drei, my good twink, looks like you and me just hit the jackpot.”  
The priest licked the side of his thumb and smudged out the name of the original, unlucky bearer with the blood, dirt, and spit thereon. The god of the hunt did provide, not approve, maybe, but surely did provide.

#*#*#*#*

Brinke took her mysterious, silver-eyed rescuer by the hand and led him through the cliffs to Trunau, one of the last bastions of civilization here in the orc-dominated Hold of Belkzen. The most immediately visible feature of the town was its palisade. Originally a hastily constructed fence of sharpened branches, over decades of strife, it’d been built and rebuilt into something considerably more lasting and deadly. 

Ten-foot-high tree trunks, their tops sharpened into wicked points, surrounded the lower portion of the town, fitted so tight that not even light passed between them. Their bases were driven another five feet into the earth, and the bottom half of the wall was encased in rough but sturdy stone.

Trenches filled with smaller spikes formed a deadly briar guarding the wall from assault. Incorporated into the palisade were several rock outcroppings that rose even higher, forming the bases for wooden watchtowers, including those on both sides of the gate.

Past the gate, Trunau rose up a steep switchback in the cliff face to a stone plateau forty feet over the rest of the hill. The cliffs were the town’s true defense. Even a handful of defenders could easily pick off any invaders trying to scale the sheer walls.

“I know it must seem a bit much if you’re not from around here, but trust me, it’s far better than the alternative.” Brinke shuddered from her recent but mercifully brief cross with said alternative.

The small, pale stranger didn’t seem to understand Common, though he listened politely enough. Only when she’d finished talking did he let his gaze travel up to the town, picking out the fortified structures that crowded between normal houses and shops.

“Don’t mind all that, Vier. We love outsiders, so long as they’re not orcs.” Or half-orcs, truth be told. Not that her momma had had any say in that.

Sure enough, the townsfolk on gate duty didn’t question her a whit seeing as her companion was clearly not of orc descent, a bittersweet relief.

Trunau was a one-tavern town. That tavern also happened to be where Brinke worked as a barmaid. To get there, they had to pass by the Commons, the central feature of the community and local rumor-mill.

The half-orc ducked her head, hiding behind the tangled curtains of her red hair, and pulled Vier as fast as they could walk past the wide, stone amphitheater. In the mornings, the Commons served as the grounds for mandatory martial training for adults and an open-air classroom for the children. With afternoon settling into dusk, it’d become a bustling meeting grounds for families and friends just about to break off for home or the Ramblehouse.

There wasn’t enough armor in the world to keep the stares and pointed whispers from piercing in through Brinke’s green skin. She wished she had Vier’s lack of local linguistics, though he got his fair share of stares and whispers as well. Naught to do but keep a steady, rapid pace until they were through the back door of the Ramblehouse.

“Cam! I brought a helping hand!” Brinke shouted to the bar out front without leaving the narrow hall between it, the kitchen, and the pantry.

Her portly, middle-aged halfling boss popped their head through the empty doorframe. “Damn! He single?”

Brinke blushed furiously. “Vier just needs a place to stay while he’s in town. I figured he could work for room and board, if that’s alright.”

“Vier, you’re hired.”

Just like that. “Thanks, Cam.”

“Don’t thank me, kid. A stranger that strange and fine’s great for business. Now show him the ropes before we get hit with the evening rush!” The tavernkeep popped back to their station.

Brinke sighed, but her deflation lasted only for a moment. She led Vier into the pantry, shutting the door behind them for a quiet moment before the storm. His mysteriously shifting tattoos glowed ever-so-slightly in the darkness like the eyes of a cat.

He was...beautiful. In their close proximity, the half-orc’s chest brushing his, her body suffused with a dizzying heat. Her knees sank slow to the ground guided by some secret instinct.

“Vier,” she breathed, her voice softer than ever in the darkness, “I want to thank you for saving my life. May I…?”

He tilted his head to one side, inquisitive. 

Face burning, Brinke unzipped the pants of his black jumpsuit. The twin mouths between her legs twitched instinctively. His cock was as finely formed as the rest of him, large and built to the pleasure the fuck out of any hole it penetrated.

Her wide eyes met his. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the tip of his dick. Tattoos glowed there, too, stiffening his cock as they trailed up and down his shaft.

Brinke licked and sucked him in, her chest full to bursting with heat as Vier’s dick filled her mouth to the back of her throat. He lowered his hands to either side of her head, fingers tangling in her hair.

“Brinke,” he breathed.

The half-orc let out a soft, hungry whine and took his narrow hips in her hands. She buried her head on his cock, letting him impale her constricting throat to the hilt. Sucking and whining, her shaft squeezed closed around his dick.

The stranger gasped. Hot, sticky cum exploded down the half-orc’s throat. 

His load, more than expected, was also more than her mouth could hold. She choked softly around his cock, struggling to swallow as much as she could. But Brinke’s throat was so stuffed she couldn’t help spurting his seed out from her nostrils.

Vier helped her up off his dick, holding her to his chest and rubbing her back until she’d caught her breath. She pulled back, burning with equal parts shame and desire, her back hitting the shelves behind her.

“Sorry, sorry. Gods, I’m such a fool. Forget that just happened, would you kindly?”

As per usual, her mysterious stranger said nothing.


	13. Theater of Slaves

The mongrelfolk’s subterranean city of Neathholm was built around the dark lake washing against the stone at its center. The walls and ceiling of the natural, massive cavern were aglow with thick sheets of luminescent fungi. The small city itself stretched stony and spider-like from an island at the lake’s heart and bridging out into the far reaches of the cavern.

Cold lights of fungi or crystal suffused from the open-air windows in the round stone buildings, filling the city with a dim but multi-colored haze. Rafts made of chitinous animal shells and hide bobbed along zigzagging piers in the lantern haze and shadows below.

Home sweet home. Dyr, Lan, and Cel stopped their caged wagon just outside the city limits to prepare their catch properly for the slave market. One by one, Ein and the others were temporarily freed to be “washed” in the dark, frigid waters of a shallow stream. The three mongrelfolk merely held them under to the point of drowning and hoped the current took care of the bulk of the dirt.

The five shivering prisoners were then collared to the same long chain, Ein at the rear. Their wrists were simply cuffed behind their backs to give potential buyers an unobstructed view of their naked flesh. The five were then led back into the wagon to be taken to the Market District proper.

Mongrelfolk of all animal shapes and sizes stared, laughed, and jeered at the procession of new slaves through the zigzagging streets. Ein, the Iobarians, the half-orc, and the blind elf were pinched, slapped, groped, and prodded by the endless sea of hands from either side of the street. When they inevitably stumbled and fell, the slavers dragged them, choking, for several yards for the crowd’s raucous, humiliating amusement.

There was a collective cry when the procession of debased captives finally reached the Theater of Slaves. Dyr made a very rude gesture.

“Quit whining, ya cheapskates,” growled Cel.

“If you liked what you saw, you know where to find us,” said Lan.

With that, the slavers brought their product into the hazily lit building through the merchant entrance. Anyone who wished to enter the theater either to watch or to buy had to pay an entrance fee. The slavers paid a fee to Neathholm themselves for a stage within the council-owned theater.

According to the staff, they were the only ones setting up shop at the moment, which boded well for profit. They kept the curtains closed as they set up the slaves, their ears pricking up in excitement at the sounds of an audience filing in, taking seats, and idly chatting. When the slavers finally opened the curtains, there was a deafening cheer from the completely sold-out seats.

The five slaves stood in a line facing the audience in front of the back curtain. Dyr unhooked the transwoman first, placing her on a short, individual leash. She walked the human down the runway. Before the crowd, she secured the Iobarian’s leash to a hook at the front of the stage, forcing the handcuffed woman to her knees.

As the crowd leered on, she removed the human’s cuffs and handed her belted leather sleeves. The broken bitch slipped them wordlessly onto her arms. Dyr buckled them tight so that her forearms were strapped to her upper arms, her hands flopping uselessly at her shoulders.

The mongrelwoman set her foot on the woman’s back, forcing her onto her knees and elbows as the crowd cheered wildly. There were only more hoots and hollers as Dyr shoved a huge, horse-dick dildo up the bitch’s anus, its false tail waving between her asscheeks.

The Iobarian grunted, eyes bulging in pain. The slaver, merciless, took up her leash once more and forced her to hobble in burning shame back to the line of slaves.

The half-orc was next. Lan took her down to the front of the stage where she, too, was forced to her knees. He belted thick leather straps around her arms and chest, her knees, and her ankles, lashing them together. He forced her to the floor with a foot on her back and bent double dildo topped with a fist-sized snake head at each end in his hands.

The half-orc huffed and clenched her teeth against the pain as the slaver rammed the first head up her pussy. He shoved second head up her anus, its thick rubber girth rubbing through the shared wall of her shafts against the first.

Her huffed breath came hard and fast as she shut her eyes against the brutal stuffing of her ass and pussy. The slaver smirked over her. He took her leash back in hand and began to drag her back, forcing her to squirm worm-like at his heels to keep from choking. 

A glistening sheen of sweat broke across the half-orc’s green skin from her exertion. She huffed and snorted, fighting to suppress her quivering at the spasms that wracked out from between her legs where the violating heads rubbed each other through her wall. But before Lan left her, he gave the protruding bend of her dildo a swift, firm shove up her holes.

The half-orc bitch squealed, the fist-sized snake heads nailing her womb and the guts clenched at the depths of her anus. Spears of pleasured shame ripped through her belted body in full view of the crowd. Tears ran from her eyes even as the cumbrained slut moaned and writhed as senselessly as a headless snake on the floor of the stage.

The second Iobarian and the blind elf were next, Cel leading one by the leash in either hand. At the front of the stage, they uncuffed the human to force them on their hands and knees. Then the slaver uncuffed the elf, guiding him to mount the human on all fours to the crowd’s leering delight.

Cel strapped the elf’s forearms to the human’s and the legs of the two slaves together at the thighs. The hound mongrel rubbed the elf’s dick to erection and shoved his cock up the Iobarian bitch’s puckered hole. The human could only take their fellow slave’s forced rape with a grunt, the blind twink flushed and cringing in shame over their shoulder.

The slaver forced them to walk, mounted on each other, back to the line. Each torturous step caused the bitch’s anus to spasm shut under the elf’s weight and around his cock. It was too much for the silver-haired twink.

With a sob half-apologetic and half-feral moan, the elf’s hips began to buck. His cock beat against his human bitch’s g-spot, pistoning shamefully pleasured groans from their mouth. Their anal walls squeezed tight around his raping dick and sucked him deeper.

The twink screamed, his mount crying and quivering under him as burning seed burst from the swollen head of his cock. Bound bitch and rider strained against each other as their convulsing bodies slapped and fucked at the hip.

The crowd laughed and jeered at the pathetic, humiliating display of their uncontrollable, cumbrained lust. The slavers grinned at each other in smirking satisfaction. They were gonna make a killing, and there was still one more slave to debase.

It was Dyr who walked Ein down to the front of the stage and hooked their leash to the floor. She let the crowd leer on in the heated cloud of feral lust they’d worked up over the course of the show with the final slave on their knees, tits bared, and wrists cuffed behind their back. Little did the slaver know that one wealthy onlooker had brought an actual animal to the show.

Madam Sul’s exotic pet peryton tensed with rutting instinct in every muscled fiber of its body. The muzzled beast wrenched its leash free of its mistress’ hold, pupils dilating and nostrils flaring, and flapped into the air on an eleven-foot feathered wingspan.

The peryton swooped down upon the stage, knocking Dyr back on her ass and Ein forward onto their knees and chest. Madam Sul’s pet had a stag’s body and antlers, taloned paws, and the muzzled head of a wolf slavering in lust. The mounting beast shoved huge, twin cocks into the display slave’s fear-clenched asshole and cunt.

Ripping the walls of their shafts apart, the peryton reached down and pulled Ein’s back up against its furred chest, locking their bound torso crushed to itself with an arm under their tits and another around their waist. The muzzled beast flapped upward, forcing its bitch to sink deeper onto the long, thick cocks impaling them between the legs, their dangling feet kicking and jerking uselessly in the air.

The crowd rose to their feet, eyes riveted on the bestial spectacle before them. The peryton, oblivious in its heat, clutched its helpless mount to its underbelly and jackhammered both dicks, churning up their synthetic guts.

Ein gurgled and sputtered in helpless shock as the massive animal cocks slammed burst after burst of shuddering spasms into the squeezing depths of their inmost cavities. Their truly slavish pussy and anus, built to serve the bodies and wills of others, convulsed tight around the peryton’s raping dicks.

Ein squealed, bucking and thrashing in the beast’s inescapable clutches and atop its mercilessly pounding cocks. The peryton only gripped them tighter, shoving them brutally down onto the dicks splitting their ass and pussy apart. With a deep, rumbling growl, its cum exploded into its publically orgasming bitch.

The crowd screamed out their applause, climbing onto their seats. Madam Sul, a mongrel with the look of a huge and furless blue-skinned rat, scurried backstage at once to seek out the slavers.

“I’m purchasing the entire lot for my brothel. Name your price.”


	14. Technical Overtures

When the violet flame that blazed from the top of Black Hill for a century suddenly went out, it threatened the livelihood of nearly everyone who lived just below in the smithing town of Torch. Little wonder then that the council was offering a bounty to any and all adventurers they could to infiltrate the Black Hill caverns and determine the cause of the problem.

Only Garn Leth, owner of the illustrious saloon and card room Silverdisk, and his merry band of Ropefists knew the truth. Priestess Myada and her own little band of cultists had blown into town from the sprawling junkyard of Scrapwall in the canyons east. The porcelain, violet-haired woman with her shifting tattoos had paid Leth a handsome sum for the use of his warehouse and his support.

The cleric believed she was on a mission from god, one that involved relaying the power from within Black Hill back to Scrapwall. Leth, to whom half of Torch was indebted in large or small amounts, figured as long as she was good for the coin, the less questions asked about that, the better.

As part of their accord, he agreed to send a few Ropefists out to the caverns to update her whenever he got wind of a new adventuring team coming her way. Thanks to such warnings, no adventurer had ever made the return trip, much to the council’s increasing worry.

The half-orc Nil, newest of the Ropefists, was with the pair who went up this morning. They’d only just blown into town themself and had been renting a room at Silverdisk. One look at the lean, towering traveller with the left side of their body completely covered in fractal, geometric tattoos was enough for Leth to offer them a job on the spot. Nil, with nowhere pressing to be, accepted.

On their way through the caverns, the three stopped at the four huts of “Skulkville” to let their cave-dwelling allies know fresh meat would be coming around tomorrow in case they wanted to partake of that. The words never left their mouths, so shocked were they by the sight that awaited them.

The four skulks had erected a ten-foot metal pole as thick around as a tree. On its trunk they'd strung up their latest capture, restrained to the pole by metal bands around her neck, elbows, and wide-spread thighs. Her tongue lolled through the metal ring-gag in her mouth, the device stripping her of any intelligible cries as the two skulks under her thighs shoved both their cocks up the tight, narrow shaft of her anus.

Having never seen another silver-eyed woman with tattoos moving beneath unnaturally pale skin, the Ropefists naturally assumed this was Priestess Myada getting her slutty asshole doubly fucked in front of them. Only after several minutes of staring at the laughing skulks pound her helplessly quivering flesh into the hard metal wall of the pole did they recall that the cleric had purple hair, not blue. This new young woman uselessly kicking and flailing her hands and feet, her body pinned to trunk and impaled atop the skulks' wall-splitting dicks, was a stranger.

The skulks picked up the pace, slamming their cocks into their captive cumslut's clenched gut. The synthetic woman shrieked, her eyes bulging and nostrils flaring in agony. But her treacherous anus only squeezed harder around her rapists' dicks, sucking them until they nailed her pathetically pulsing g-spot.

With her mouth forced open, she was powerless to suppress her shameful, pleasured moan. Her back arched against the pole, head banging senselessly against the metal as she shuddered and convulsed in her restraining bands and upon her rapists' cocks. The skulks groped the soft flesh of her legs and breasts, bracing and groaning as they unloaded burning seed into their doubly stuffed cumdump.

While the first two pumped their quivering captive full, the Ropefists with Nil gathered enough of their wits to parlay with the second two skulks. The half-orc's deepest red eyes, however, remained fixed on the being they had recognized as an android.

"...heading here tomorrow…"

"How much for the girl?" Nil interrupted brusquely.

Both skulks looked back over their shoulders. Their fellow tribesfolk were wedging a thick metal plug up their cumtoilet's anus to keep their seed warm in her ass. Her silver eyes winced in pain but otherwise made not a sound.

"Nil, we're not here to wet your dick, partner."

"I'm not getting her for me. I want her for Leth. Trust me, he's gonna want to see this."

The Ropefists smirked knowingly and shook their heads. They couldn't argue with that.

"How much?" Nil asked again, their tone brooking no argument.

The skulks' price was steep, but the half-orc was carrying more coin than either of the Ropefists would've guessed, in platinums even. So the cave-dwellers unplugged the girl's asshole and took her down from their torturing pole.

One pulled a coarse rope leash snug around her flawlessly crafted throat while another bound her arms inescapably behind her back at the elbows and wrists. A third tied a hobbling length of rope to her ankles as their tribesfolk's cum oozed down the length of her legs.

"The little cumslut never gets tired, see?" said the fourth, handing her leash over to Nil. "She doesn't talk or sleep, neither."

"Weird," said a Ropefist.

"Naw, partner. A whore that never sleeps? That's just good business," said the other.

"You're right," said Nil. "I better take her back to Silverdisk right away. You two go on ahead."

They couldn't argue with that. Nil led the young woman into the tunnels leading out from Skulkville, stopping only once they'd put an hour of distance between them and the others. They helped the promised sex slave sit against a stalagmite. They draped their leather duster over her shoulders before squatting in front of her to talk.

"You ok?"

Her eyes met theirs, but she didn't respond to Common. The half-orc tried Androffan instead. "You ok?"

The android's eyes widened in surprise. "Yes-I...are you with the cleric?"

"I'm no cultist. My name's Nil. Who are you? Where'd you come from?"

"Zwei, I'm Zwei. I...woke up in the vessel deeper within the caverns."

"You're from Divinity?"

"Divinity...yes, that was the name of the ship. I was a part of the crew in a past lifetime, but I seem to have lost all my magic."

"What part of the crew?"

"I maintained the ship's robotics and their operating systems."

Nil sat back on their heels with a low whistle. This was the kind of once-in-a-lifetime find that could advance the Technic League by centuries, millennia even. A slavegirl with intimate knowledge of Divinity's workings without any of the magic to use such power herself.

And they would have to turn her over to be endlessly raped in Leth's brothel while they waited for contact with the League.

"Fuck," Nil muttered in Orcish.

"...are you ok?" asked the android, her voice unexpectedly soft.

"I know we're strangers and all, but I'm gonna need you to trust me. Things are gonna have to get a lot worse before I can get you out of this."

"I understand."

"No, you don't."

"Then I don't. But I will trust you."

Nil let out a deep sigh. They nodded, a muscle flexing in their jaw at the thought of the innocent android in Leth's filthy, soiling hands. But what choice did the League agent have?


	15. Of Bandits and Liars

Oleg’s Trading Post was easy enough to spot. It stood upon a hill beyond the Greenbelt’s northern treeline. A wooden palisade surrounded it with a wooden watchtower at each corner. Not that they did much good with the front gate open.

Drei and Jhoken approached carefully, staying low in the tall, rustling grass of the hillside. They snuck to either side of the gate and peered into the market yard within.

Two tables had been upturned by a fire pit. The door to a storage pen for bulky trade goods had been completely knocked off its hinges. Bodies littered the floor, adding their blood to the wetness of the earth.

A small but nonetheless cocksure kobold with soot-black scales leaned back nonchalantly against one of the tables table. They directed two dirty, forest-camouflaged humans as they sorted through the goods.

Jhoken drew the crossbow off his back. He’d seen enough raiders in his lifetime to recognize the filth of their ilk. He turned to nod at Drei, but his companion had already drawn their new rapier.

Instead, he took aim and fired at the kobold in command. He knew as soon as the crossbow let out its soft, cumbersome thunk that his aim was off. Sure enough, the bolt merely took a wee chunk off the startled kobold’s arm.

Then everything happened at once.

Drei bolted into the yard, driving into a sliding tackle across the mud to the kobold. They thrust their rapier upward, spearing the reptilian humanoid through the gut.

The kobold’s mouth opened with a bloody splatter. Thunk! Before they could make a ruckus, Jhoken’s second bolt nailed them in the head, dead.

A bandit poked her head out of the pen. “Where do you want the…”

Drei snatched the dagger from the kobold’s scabbard and spun into a slashing lunge at the pale-skinned Iobarian. She clapped one hand to her gashed throat, swinging a mighty club with the other.

WHUMP! Drei was knocked back, their head spinning from the blow.

The second bandit came jogging out. “What in the Nymph Queen’s succulent ti…?!”

Thunk! Jhoken’s bolt pierced their throat and buried there. The first bandit gaped at her blasted compatriot. A perfect distraction.

Drei thrust their rapier up through her ribcage and into her heart. She was dead before they unsheathed the blade from her body.

The second bandit gurgled red and ran. Drei’s rapier caught them in the back. They stumbled but stayed on their feet. Until Jhoken’s next bolt squished through their eye.

With three bodies motionless in the mud, Drei and Jhoken straightened. They lowered their weapons but didn’t put them away.

“There could be more,” said the Kellid, keeping his voice hushed. “We should check the other buildings.”

Drei turned their head at once to the largest building on the lot. The squat building was made from thick timbers, an upper floor in the midst of construction on its flat roof. The two crept toward its double doors and opened them the slightest crack. They were met with jeering laughter, grunts, and the smack of flesh against flesh.

The main hall had likely served as a tavern for traders before the bandits had trashed it. They’d left the windows, but broken chairs, tables, and all kinds of storage receptacles.

Two bodies, naked but still living, were tied back-to-back on the bartop. Their arms had been lashed together at the elbows over their heads so that their hands could only grasp and flail uselessly as they were assaulted from above and below.

Three kobolds penetrated the grizzled, middle-aged Iobarian on top. One straddled their head, pistoning his dick into their mouth. The other two had forced their way between their legs. They’d shoved both their cocks into the captive’s ass, ripping their anal walls apart.

The young woman tied under them was a kayal. She had a lithe build with pitch black skin, smoke gray hair, and the yellow eyes of a cat. She was sandwiched between the older captive and the bandit under her, ramming his cock into her fertile pussy while she sobbed helplessly onto his shoulder.

The bandit laughed and dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her asscheeks. He picked up the pace, pounding her into the crushing weight of the captive on top as his dick slammed the mouth of the kayal’s womb.

The girl squealed, squirming urgently between the flesh pinning her in place. It was hopeless. Slick squirted from her traitorous pussy, her walls clamping down on the dick raping her in the womb. The kayal screamed out a half-cry, half-moan.

The bandit penetrating her groaned. Seed burst from his cock just as Jhoken’s crossbow bolt burst through his skull into his brain. 

The kobolds shrieked and scattered off the grizzled Iobarian, splattering their cum all over their face and thighs. Drei caught them as they tried to flee, their rapier stabbing them through the back.

Jhoken hefted the tied-together captives off the bartop and the bandit corpse to a seat on the floor. He grabbed the dagger off the dead man to slice through the ropes. Their arms fell limply to their sides.

“Thank you,” the kayal rasped, drawing her knees to her chest.

“Yeah, I really owe you one for saving me and my daughter,” said the Iobarian, just as hoarsely. “I’m Oleg and this is Setana.”

“Just common decency,” said the ex-cleric. “I’m Jhoken, priest of Erastil, and this is Drei. They, uh, they got fey-touched and kinda forgot how to speak.”

Oleg rose to their feet, nodding slowly. They offered their daughter a hand, but she shook her head, too ashamed in her nakedness.

“We’ll, ah, give you a little privacy,” said Jhoken.

“Wait,” said her adoptive parent. “What brings you here?”

The Kellid pulled out the charter he and Drei had swiped off the unfortunate adventurer.

“Good, you can actually help with the fucking bandit problem. As long as you’ve got your charters, I can offer you free room and board here at the Trading Post.”

“...There are more bandits?”

“‘Course. Where’s your buddy’s charter?” asked Oleg, frowning at the smudged over name.

“We’re on the same charter. Because we’re married. Actually we’ve been having marital problems ever since their run-in with the fey. Being here in the Greenbelt, these woods connected to the forests of the First World, we thought it’d be a kind of exposure therap…”

“Okay, okay, got it. Can’t be too careful out here. Anywho, you let us get cleaned up and my daughter and I can get started on a hot meal for all of us.”

Jhoken grinned and gave Drei a light punch in the shoulder. It worked. “That sounds delightful. Come on, honey. Let’s give ‘em a moment.”


End file.
